


punchline

by tanyart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: The joke is this: they're going to keep on living, by the skin of their teeth.





	punchline

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for the R76 zine, _SKIN OF OUR TEETH_. Thank you everyone who has contributed and supported the zine, and especially deers, who worked extra hard to make it all happen. I'm super thankful to have been a part of this!! I am also in Zi's debt for the beta and all her lovely encouragement!
> 
> You can find out more information about the zine on [tumblr](https://r76zine.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/R76Zine).

* * *

 

They keep saving each other.

Jack grins down at Gabriel and it’s not the poster boy smile with the teeth and the knowing look for the other agents to see. Jack smiles and it’s just a tired grin, hanging on the side of crooked, threatening to fall off if he isn’t too careful. He holds out his hand, sooty with dirt and smoke. Gabriel takes it, letting Jack drag him back up to his feet.

“Oh, good. You made it,” Jack says, grunting. His blue armor is stained with both the red blood of humans and the black, viscous fluid of omnics. The explosions have died down, the gunfire tapering off as the battle sputters to an end.

“Barely,” Gabriel says, matching Jack’s sardonic tone with honesty. It makes Jack’s hand linger over his, thumb pressing against his palm. He notices that Jack has taken off his gloves, and it’s this little detail that tightens his grip over Jack’s wrist.

Gabriel doesn’t know why they are constantly surprised to see each other alive on the battlefield. Overwatch puts the strike team on the most dangerous missions, but SEP has done wonders with the human body. They were built to fight and built to last.

“Barely,” Jack repeats. His smile is gone.

But maybe it’s not surprise they feel to find each other alive. It’s relief. Gabriel feels it sink in, watching Jack’s brow furrow as they study each other. Gabriel knows he’s bleeding from somewhere superficial. He hurts, but he’s not incapacitated, and neither is Jack.

Gabriel is already standing, footing steady and sure, but Jack’s hold over his hand hasn’t loosened. Gabriel smiles, wry, and leans in close, like he needs to share a secret.

“But we were made to survive,” Gabriel reminds. They can save each other over and over again like this.

Jack scoffs, but he lets go of Gabriel’s hand.

 

* * *

 

They keep trying to kill each other.

To the rest of the world, the old commanders of Overwatch and Blackwatch are long dead. It’s all on paper, death certificates signed and burial plots gifted. It’s a blessing to be forgotten, but there’s always something about them that persists over the years in a way old memories shouldn’t.

Reaper wants to believe that there’s nothing left of them—that there’s only the thing that used to be Gabriel Reyes, and the other thing who used to be Jack Morrison.

But maybe it’s inevitable that parts of them end of surviving.

It’s nothing so obvious as seeing a familiar face or hearing an old name. Reaper’s appearance is constantly shifting, and Soldier 76 never takes off his visor. Faces mean nothing. The name _Jack Morrison_ pops up in the old Overwatch records and Reaper feels only the calm acceptance of filing away the information for later to use to his advantage. He reads the name _Gabriel Reyes_ as if it’s someone from the history books, impersonal and distant.

It’s been years, but the details are residual. When standing his ground, Reaper juts his chin up just like Gabriel would. When Soldier 76 strides up to him, his steady gait is the same as Jack’s. Everything echoes faintly in the back of Reaper’s mind like a blur in his vision he can’t quite clear. Soldier 76 shoving him on his back feels like Jack pushing Gabriel down in bed, and Reaper pulling Soldier 76 with him feels like practice, like a rehearsed dance they’ve done before.

The air bursts out of Reaper’s lungs, numb from the constant pain, but he inhales on cue, as if breathing is still something he needs to do. Soldier 76 looks down at him, pausing. For a moment Reaper imagines a tired grin beneath the red visor.

It becomes harder to tell who Reaper is trying to erase—if he just wants to kill Soldier 76, or Jack Morrison, or both of them all together.

It’s a sad, pathetic state of affairs on both their parts. It makes Reaper hesitate in the smallest and most infuriating of ways. He thrashes, gets one of his clawed hands around Soldier 76’s throat, and holds it bare.

“Gabe,” Soldier 76 chokes out, voice gone rough with anger. He bleeds through his jacket, so many brushes with death that never seem to end him completely.

Reaper snarls. He knows exactly what the problem is—knowing they’ve both made it out alive, and that Soldier 76 can’t let go of Reaper from Gabriel Reyes in the same way Reaper can’t shake off Jack Morrison from Soldier 76.

So maybe the only thing Reaper really wants to kill is Gabriel Reyes, if only to stop Soldier 76 from hesitating to kill him as well.

Soldier 76’s hands move to grab Reaper’s wrists, trying in vain to pull them off his throat. His thumbs press against Reaper’s palms, and it’s almost too much for Reaper to bear.

“Why,” Reaper says, and he doesn’t mean to sound so desperate. “Why can’t you just die?”

Soldier 76 sways over him. Blood drips over Reaper’s mask, but Reaper is starting to ooze black from his dissipating body.

“Ah, Gabe. Gabe?” Soldier 76 says, leaning close, like it’s the joke he’s been wanting to share. “Remember what you told me?”

Reaper uses the last of his strength to keep Soldier 76 from talking, but Soldier 76 lets go of his hands, just like before, and something in Reaper bursts too soon, body disappearing to retreat back into darkness.

“We were made to survive,” Jack reminds him, into the empty air.


End file.
